Andris Nelsons' brilliant Rite of Spring for the CBSO reminds you what a
startling piece of work it is, says John Allison.

Andris Nelsons is a brave man. About to conduct his first Elektra at Covent Garden this week, he has opened his latest season as music director of the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra with his firstRite of Spring. Both the Strauss and Stravinsky, two seminal early 20th-century works which famously caused scandals when they were new, are hugely challenging scores, but Nelsons passed the test in Birmingham thrillingly.

In a season awash with performances of Stravinsky's ballet score - its centenary was celebrated in May - this one stood out. Nelsons caught the essence of the ritualised drama right from a mysterious opening, and with a flickering baton encouraged colourful solos from his wind section especially. In the acoustics of Symphony Hall, every member of this pounding orchestral machine made their mark. But the heavily lumbering lower strings seldom have such presence, and the hauntingly lyrical passages were full of wistfulness.

The Rite may be a repertory piece now, but it was not always one to take for granted, and the CBSO didn't tackle it until 1965. Some orchestras still flatten it out, but this freshly vivid performance was a reminder of what a startling work it is. It was also, in the right places, the loudest Rite I have ever heard; had this powerful orchestra (of course, boosted by modern instruments) played at the Paris premiere, the protesters would have been drowned out.

The other major work on the programme was Dvorak's Violin Concerto, with Anne-Sophie Mutter making a rare visit to Birmingham. Compared with the high-gloss style that she used to exhibit in her playing, Mutter delivered fierce lines and was also wonderfully introspective here. Her opening statements were rapturously hushed, and the musings of the slow movement made extra impact thanks to her discreet use of portamento, the old-fashioned way of sliding between notes. Yet she could have lightened up a little for the finale's slavonic dance: remaining intensely serious, she didn't quite match the high spirits of the orchestra in this invigorating music.

Nelsons prefaced these works with the piece that apparently made him fall in love with music as a child: the overture to Tannhäuser. Responding to his meticulously detailed conducting, the orchestra revelled in this mix of the spiritual and sensuous. It can't be long before Nelsons adds the complete work to the list of Wagner operas he has done in Birmingham.